


call my friends, tell them that i love them (i really do)

by archivedthoughts



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Attack on Titan season 4 episode 14 spoilers, Hurt No Comfort, Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan Manga Spoilers, The Table Scene through Eren's eyes, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-26 02:53:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30099180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/archivedthoughts/pseuds/archivedthoughts
Summary: Eren gave her his best disinterested look. “I said keep your hands on the table.” Judging from the shock clearly visible on Mikasa’s face, he got his message across.He came here to lie, after all.Lie and nothing else, to bring them as far from him as he could.He attacked Armin on his feelings for Annie next, and was satisfied when he saw the mortified look on his best friend’s features.Hate me, he pleaded in the darkness of his heart.(Don’t.)The table scene, from Eren's POV.
Relationships: Armin Arlert & Eren Yeager, Mikasa Ackerman & Armin Arlert, Mikasa Ackerman & Armin Arlert & Eren Yeager, Mikasa Ackerman & Eren Yeager, Mikasa Ackerman/Eren Yeager
Comments: 17
Kudos: 85





	call my friends, tell them that i love them (i really do)

Eren took a deep breath, fist clenched tight, hovering above the door handle. He could taste bile at the back of his throat and the distaste he felt for himself for what he was about to do was so immense it left him dizzy for a fleeting moment. _No_ , he told himself. This had to be done. One of the Yeagerists (why they had to name themselves that and carry it with pride, he refused to understand. Eren didn’t think there’d be anything to boast about following a wretched man such as himself, but he needed them in order to execute his objectives) rounded the corner and into the other room, seemingly to finish his duty concerning the other Survey Corps members.

_Jean. Connie. Hange. I'm sor-_

_No_. He shook the thoughts off and steeled his resolve for the final time, gaze heavy on the door before him. Everything he’s doing, every twisted little details, was done for their sake. They’d understand. (A small nagging voice at the back of his mind that sounded suspiciously like his younger self disagreed.)

He pushed down the handle and the hinges creaked. Three heads snapped up and froze in place when they saw who entered the room, and their eyes widened even more as his raised, bloodied palm dripped a steady trickle of red onto the tiled floor. They all sat down when he told them to, trembling limbs and lips. Floch rapped his knuckles against the door outside, and Eren’s heart clenched when he saw Armin and Mikasa’s betrayed expressions from the corner of his vision.

Eren uttered his desire to talk to them, silently wishing that it could be under different circumstances, one without a demand for violence, one where the three of them could be together again, one where he didn't have ulterior motives and things to accomplish and they could all laugh openly again.

No use for wishful thinking, though. The world’s cruel as it was.

With all of their hands above the table, Eren couldn’t ball his own into fists to channel his anxiety anymore. That’s fine, he knew he’s got his exterior all under control. If he felt like the content of his stomach could jump out and spill onto the white cloth at any second, it was between himself and nobody else to know. The table rattled with how the Warrior candidate who was with them trembled. He almost pitied her for getting caught in the middle of all this mess, a silent spectator about to watch everything go down straight to hell. He couldn’t feel even an ounce of hatred for her after all she’s done, especially not when he himself has done way, way worse.

Armin, ever the brave man he was, shot him a hundred questions in rapid succession. He stared into those eyes, those blue, blue eyes, and ah. The ocean. It’s always the goddamned ocean.

He leaned backwards, letting the chair he was sitting on stood on two legs and tilted back, a very childlike behaviour. What for, he’s not so sure himself. (Maybe to convince himself that he’s not as scared as he truly was.)

“I am free,” he said instead of providing Armin with answers. He went on about how everything that he’s done wasn’t done under anyone else’s command, only his own desire. Both a truth and a lie. How ironic.

Mikasa started talking about how she never believed Eren would’ve done what he had, even to the point where she stood up and clutched at that red scarf (that scarf had always become a sore subject and object for him, so he resolutely kept his eyes on her pained face, which wasn't any better at easing his tight throat), and Eren gave her his best disinterested look. “I said keep your hands on the table.” Judging from the shock clearly visible on Mikasa’s face, he got his message across.

He came here to lie, after all.

Lie and nothing else, to bring them as far from him as he could.

He attacked Armin on his feelings for Annie next, which was such a hypocritical move on his part, and was satisfied when he saw the mortified look on his best friend’s features.

 _Hate me_ , he pleaded in the darkness of his heart.

( _Don’t._ )

Mikasa interrupted him when Armin was rendered speechless and Eren found his chance. Time to play his ultimate card.

This next one was simultaneously his best and worst plan, his best and worst lie. He spouted bullshit about the Ackerman bloodline, about the headaches he knew she suffered from. He was at an advantage because of how no one seemed to know much about the family anyway, which gave them no reason to not believe him (and frankly, no reason to believe him, either, so he lied straight through his teeth and twisted Zeke’s words and the information he provided).

Mikasa’s eyes were wide, so wide. In horror. In disbelief. He could see her mind pushing back everything he said. Her words of denial mirrored the metaphorical heart that was steadily breaking inside her. Eren needed to push more of her and Armin’s buttons. He needed to get them to let him go. Armin started shouting.

_Good._

_Please go._

( _Please don’t.)_

“Do you know what I hate most in this world? Anyone who isn’t free.”

Armin started to get louder and louder. Mikasa’s gaze dropped down, mouth ajar in dismay.

Eren pinched his eyebrows together. He could feel the lethal glare his own eyes were showing, dripping with artificial hatred, and he should be relieved that his plan went this far in success. He should be.

“Ever since I was a kid…” He took a surprisingly steady breath.

“Mikasa.”

_I’ve always lo–_

“I’ve always hated you.”

He had expected the leap Armin made, the borderline murderous look in his eyes. The bone-shattering _“Eren! How dare you?!”_ , because never in his life before had he hear Armin’s voice go completely off the rail with rage like that.

He had expected Mikasa to tackle Armin down to the table. He fought the urge to grit his teeth in frustration (at himself, he knew) when Armin's entire body hit the furniture.

“See? All you’ve ever done in your life was dictated by your Ackerman blood.”

Mikasa released Armin in complete bewilderment. Tears started to fall freely down the fair skin he had always wanted to caress and for a stupid, selfish reason he wanted to wipe them with his thumb. _Fucking idiot, you don’t deserve to even be in the same room as her_ , he told himself.

More tears fell from Mikasa’s dark-colored eyes, and then a blur, then suddenly his vision was filed with blue, so much blue, blue that glowed with rage. The ocean came to mind (again).

Armin lunged at him, and Eren felt oddly relieved, and, even more odd, proud. His fist connected with his face and it made a satisfying sound. ( _I deserved it._ )

 _There he is_ , he thought as the table toppled over and he got knocked off the chair. _There’s the brave man he used to able to call his best friend_ , he thought as he quickly got to his feet and dodged another flying punch.

Eren threw his own fist to Armin’s lower jaw, and he wasn’t the one hit, but it throbbed. A dull ache under his skin, inside his heart, that wouldn’t go away. He grabbed the shorter man’s coat and flung him to the nearest cupboard, causing all the plates and glasses and wine bottles to come crashing down. The Yeagerists (he still hated that name) outside must’ve heard the commotion and barged through the door in an instant, pointing their rifles, sounding their concern for him.

"It’s fine," he said lowly. What a fucking liar.

“Hey, Armin,” he spoke again, and he felt unworthy to even call the boy who had been by his side since god-knows-when by name. “You know how we’ve never fought once despite knowing each other all our lives?”

Armin growled and pounced at him again, Eren dodging every attack swiftly. “Know why that is?”

He landed a punch on his face.

_I’m sorry._

Another punch to his nose.

 _Hate me._

Another punch to his other cheek. He could hear the sound of something breaking. The fact that the injuries he inflicted on Armin would heal in no time did nothing to make the whole thing easier to do.

_Let me go._

“Because the two of us…” Another punch. And another.

_Forget about me._

“…could never have a fair fight!”

( _Don’t._ )

A knee to his ribs.

( _Please stop me._ )

Armin fell to the ground, his head hitting the tiles with a loud thud. Mikasa stayed frozen beside him, watching the entire thing in pure horror, eyes and cheeks neverendingly wet. She was still so beautiful, always was, always would be, even after everything she went through, even as she knelt down besides Armin’s unmoving body and held him up. Eren's heart ached.

He turned around and ordered the Yeagerists to take both of them and the brat who killed Sasha away instead.

“So… what did you really come here to say?” he heard Armin say through a strained voice and blood-stuffed nose. He glanced behind his shoulder.

“Is this the freedom you wanted? The freedom to hurt Mikasa?”

Eren continued to hold his gaze, and he was the one staring down, but it felt like Armin was the one towering over him instead. And for the first time in his short, sad life, he heard his former best friend cursed. At him.

“You’re the real slave, and your master’s a piece of shit.” 

He seethed, grinding his teeth together. His eyelids felt like they were burning. _Slave_. The very word irrationally boiled his anger (towards whom, he didn't have an exact answer), even though he knew there’s no better phrase to describe him with.

Blue, blue eyes stared back at him through swollen flesh, and the ocean came crashing to his feet once more, relentlessly, unforgiving. He knew it was way too late to ask for forgiveness anyway.

So he didn’t.

Didn’t mean it wasn’t painful though.

“Who are you calling a slave?” he hissed, vision going dangerously glassy.

He turned away to hide the tears that threatened to fall. The bruise from Armin’s punch earlier had already healed, but the spot where it landed still throbbed. There was no trace of damage left, but a gaping hole was left inside him.

“Let’s go,” he said, voice ringing in finality. “To where it all started.” Their former home. “Shiganshina district." Where nothing would ever be the same.

He walked away, not bothering to turn around.

( _I’m sorry, don’t forgive me._ )

**Author's Note:**

> title is from _listen before i go_ by billie eilish.
> 
> chapter 112 never fails to hurt me even after all this time. a friend of mine tweeted about wanting a one-shot of the infamous table scene but written in eren's point of view, so my stupid, angst-filled brain went down the road in no time. i'm sorry.
> 
> thank you for reading! <3


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